


Winterfrost

by edeapenn



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies) RPF
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Awkward Romance, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Daggers, District 1, District 10, District 11, District 12, District 2, District 3 (Hunger Games), District 4, District 5, District 6, District 7, District 8, District 9 (Hunger Games), Eventual Romance, Gen, Growth, Hunger Games, Hunger Games References, Hunger Games Tributes, Knifeplay, Knives, Literally somewhat canon, Major Original Character(s), Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Panem, Personal Growth, Romance is not the focus though, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Spears, Swords, Teen Romance, Tributes, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edeapenn/pseuds/edeapenn
Summary: In a Panem where Katniss Everdeen never existed, the 86th Hunger Games is just around the corner, and this time, 16-year-old Ryalle Farashnid is the next victim.Ever since she was reaped, she has been trying her hardest to survive, alongside her tribute partner Elias Jones and some other allies in which someone like her wouldn't want to be aligned with.The upcoming Games will feature events like no other. What challenges will Ryalle face? And will she conquer them, no matter the odds?
Relationships: OC/OC, Original Character/Original Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Unsheath. Aim. Throw.

That is my mantra whenever a knife is thrown. By now, every one of them should meet its mark. Hunting has become part of my routine since my father died. Food is scarce in my hometown and there is even no point in buying food from the market since we can barely go by financially.

But I’m not alone at this party. My childhood friend, Perry, also has similar duties, providing for his family. We were born in District 12 from mining families, and well, we have enough money to go by for now but we aren’t Capitol-rich. God knows why they have to torture all of us.

“You know you said that out loud?”

I stared at Perry when he suddenly spoke. “Did I?”

“Yes, you did,” he replied. “And I agree with you. But don’t say anything about them in case you get chosen at the Reaping today.”

The Reaping. This year marks the beginning of the 86th Hunger Games. After what happened in the Uprising, everyone, especially the people in my district, are afraid of what is going to happen to them more than ever, even if it only has been 11 years since.

“Have you done the Tesserae?” I asked as I threw another knife towards an innocent beaver that I didn’t want to kill but had to.

“Yeah, have you?” he bounced the question back to me, in which I nodded in affirmation.

After the last of our game had been gathered, we headed back home to prepare for that dreaded event.

* * *

Many thoughts were running through my head as my mother finished braiding my hair. Honestly, I could do it myself but every Reaping, I felt scared that it might be the last time she’ll do it for me.

“You look as beautiful as ever, Ryalle,” she complimented.

I don’t feel beautiful. In the last 4 years, all I felt was dread. Every single Reaping, I would always be scared that I will be chosen but if my sister, Clara, was the one chosen, that will be the worst thing that can ever happen. Even if this is her third Reaping, we are still trying our best to protect her, even when luck isn’t on our side.

“Mom, no matter what happens, we will live,” I stated in a serious tone.

I then finished the job of braiding Clara’s hair. Her hair is the color of mahogany, just like my father’s. Honestly, our hair is similar in shade, only that mine is a bit lighter.

“Okay, you’re done, I announced as I kissed her on the forehead.

She then stood up to look at the mirror. Every time she does, it’s like she’s a little girl all over again, curious to how she looks, only without the happiness because of the Reaping today.

When every one of us was ready to go, we headed out.

It only took a few minutes for us to reach the Hall of Justice from our house in the Seam, the poorest part of our district. Hordes of families and their children come here from all over the district for the Reaping every year. Being chosen to represent Twelve is like a curse. Most of the time, our tributes usually die in the bloodbath or are stupid enough to be spotted by the Careers, the tributes from District 1,2, and sometimes 4, and killed.

“What are the peacekeepers doing?” a 12-year-old girl asked.

“They are getting our blood drawn so we can be identified,” another girl, older than her, replied.

As we went through that action, we then went to our spots, to wait for the actual thing to begin.

Once everyone gathered in front of the building, Effie Trinket, the escort of our district from the Capitol, walked onto the stage set up. She first introduced a documentary about the Dark Days, and how the Capitol was able to quell the Uprising. I regularly don’t pay attention to the pleasantries like that because who has room to be happy at this wretched thing?

“Ladies first.”

That brought me back to reality. I watched as she walked to the bowl with all the girls’ names in them. There won’t be any chance that Clara will be reaped because her name is in there only three times while there are several others. I also watched as she picked up one name and unfolded the flap.

“The female tribute for District 12 is…”

I bit my lip in anticipation and anxiety.

“... Ryalle Farashnid.”

I sighed, knowing that this was expected. It was the Tesserae’s effect. The fact that I took three for everyone in my family, including myself multiplied the names in the bowl by three. By now, twenty names are in the bowl, and one was drawn.

Everyone looked towards me as I walked towards the stage. I knew the rest of the girls are relieved that it wasn’t them, yet I can feel their fear for me, that I will die. Strangely, I don’t feel scared for my life at all. Instead, I felt prepared, like I was made for this.

“Let us give a round of applause for the female tribute of District 12, Ryalle Farashnid!” she announced aloud a few seconds after I took my place. With the district’s poor reputation in the Games in mind, nobody else clapped except her. I honestly wonder how she felt every time our tributes die each year, but as the escort, she probably has to have a facade about her.

Effie then walked over to the other Reaping bowl, where she also took her time to pick a name. Once she did, she then walked back to the microphone.

“The male tribute for District 12 is…” she then unfolded the flap and pulled the name out of the envelope. “Elias Jones.”

My eyes instantly looked towards the not familiar but familiar mop of blonde hair. Did I recognize him or talk to him before? Like this district is a small town but, anyway. I could tell that he was a little nervous but hopefully, he’ll get used to it. As for myself, I’m doing this all for my sister.

“These are your tributes.”

* * *

At this time, everyone was already mourning the loss of their two tributes. Honestly, they don’t need to mourn because I have a feeling that this district will finally have a winner in years.

Meanwhile, I heard the door open, and in came Clara and my mother.

“Ryalle!” Clara yelled out as she ran over to give me a hug.

All the time I have is limited, but I want to spend the most of it reassuring her that I will be fine.

“Clara, listen to me. Even if I have a chance to win, there is still a chance that I will die. If I do die, take care of mom,” I said. “She’ll need you.”

“I will,” she nodded, sobbing. “And… take this.”

She clasped my hand with hers, and I felt something transfer to my palm.

“Your amethyst pin, the family heirloom,” she breathed out. “If father was still here, he would’ve done the same, to protect you.”

I examined the pin in my hand. It was made out of pure silver and that material formed a ring-like shape, with a single amethyst stone in the center of the ring. It was believed that our ancestors from the pre-Dark Days mined out the materials, and created this to pass down from generation to generation, most likely knowing what is going to happen.

“Thank you,” I said as I gave her and my mother a hug.

Our moment was interrupted when a Peacekeeper slammed open the door and sternly said, “Three minutes is up.” Seconds later, he pulled my mom and Clara out of the hug. I wish that our time together was longer, but the authorities here are not merciful at all.

I was left in silence for a moment until the door opened again. This time, it was Perry who entered.

“Perry!” I called out.

Both of us threw ourselves at each other, hugging for as long as we could.

“Rye,” he muttered.

“Perry,” I looked up at him, adjusting myself so that I’m still in this hug. “If I die in that arena–”

“You will not die in that arena,” he interrupted. “You’re strong-willed. Don’t let anything else stop you from completing your task. Those knives? You’re good at wielding them; it makes you look like that one tribute from Two, but she died, unfortunately. But you’re not going to end up that way. Now get out there and win, and no matter what, I’ll always cheer for you.”

I smiled with confidence. “I will be back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! It has been a while since I began writing anything at all so it was only now that I decided to run a bunch of edits for every single chapter for this book. I hope you enjoy this :)


	2. Chapter 2

Effie escorted us to the train that we’ll take to the Capitol. The interior looked like a style that nobody in my district could afford. Maybe District One or Two are able to afford this but not Twelve.

“Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll go get Haymitch,” Effie said before she left to go into another train car.

There was an awkward silence between Elias and I. Honestly, we never spoke to one another in our lives, but we see each other sometimes, usually when I walk by his family’s bakery. We also had seen each other while we were still at school. It’s a miracle that we never communicated with one another but here we are now.

“Er, do you want to talk about anything?” he asked.

I looked at him, confused if I’m hearing his question right. “What is it?”

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

I’m not much of a talker. My words usually come from my actions and probably only a few people understand me in general. If Elias is a chatterbox, too bad.

I shrugged in response. “Sure, but I don’t know what to talk about.”

“An easy topic would be about the fact that we were both reaped for this year,” he remarked.

“I guess so.”

Then we were silent again. A few minutes later, I heard the door open. We both looked to see who entered and judging from the unfamiliar face, it was Haymitch. Yeah, I know of him, since he was the winner of a past Hunger Games that I can’t quite recall, but I usually never see him out and about, but the glass in his hand may be the answer.

“Hello there,” he greeted us as he poured a drink into his glass. I honestly don’t want to know what he drinks on a daily basis.

“Hi,” I returned his greeting.

Elias waved.

Haymitch sighed. “Why do I always get a pair of quiet children every year.”

Was he referring to how scared the previous tributes were? Like it has been about a decade since a tribute from this District was able to survive for more than a day in that arena. What made the arena so dangerous besides the other tributes? None of us actually knew, but Haymitch might since he’s technically our ‘mentor’.

We shrugged in response, not knowing what else there is to say.

“And it seems like you both think alike; have you met each other before?” Haymitch questioned.

“No sir, we haven’t,” Elias politely declined. A man of class I see.

“That’s okay, you both will have all the time before the Games to get along,” Haymitch commented. “Now, do any of you have questions for me? No, okay–”

“Is there a way to find allies?” I blurted out, interrupting his statement.

The mentor gave me an incredulous look. “Allies? Well, just from looking at you, I’m not sure you have the drive to socialize with anyone you don’t know very well, but I will give you some advice anyway. First, you obviously don’t want to be friends with the Careers because they’ll just kill you later. As for the others, you can’t really tell what their strategies are like. Either they will try to kill as many tribute as possible or just survive for as long as they can without running into danger. If you want to pick a strategy you want to go with, I suggest the second one, but it’s up to your own judgement to pick the one that fits yours.”

My own judgement. But then I’m very bad at making friends. The only friend I have and I can trust is Perry Crestwood. Every other friendship I had, we either weren’t interested or we simply lost contact with one another.

“Ryalle, what are you thinking about?”

I was startled by those words. I don’t know if it’s just me thinking Haymitch is crazy or I was deep in thought like I usually am.

“Um, nothing.” I hesitantly replied.

Then he looked closely at my face, and I raised an eyebrow in response. “What are you doing? There’s nothing to read here.”

Instead of answering my question, he remarked, “I heard you’re good at throwing knives. Is that true?”

How did he find out? Literally, ever since my father passed away, I tried my best to be very sneaky when it came to practicing in the forest. I even tried to be creative when training myself since he wasn’t there to tell me what to improve on, or what to aim for. I don’t remember what creative things I did though.

Before I had the chance to reply, or even say that I was just mediocre and tried to teach myself, Elias interjected.

“More than good, she is amazing,” he stated. “It’s basically in her blood.”

To hide my surprise, I gave him a convincingly confused look, and also made sure that my tone sounded uncertain. “Have you seen me throw one before?”

He nodded.

“When?”

“Let’s see,” Elias seemed to have a similar phase that I have when it comes to thinking about something. I assumed nobody ever observed the times I would escape to the forest either to practice my skills or just to get away. Even someone as privileged as Elias wouldn’t really care. “I secretly followed you to the nearby forest four years ago. You were very determined, determined enough to bring home a lot of food to your family.”

I was proven wrong, but how did he know what my life was like? We never talked to each other properly. I at least was discreet enough to stay hidden from the Peacekeepers but I guess I wasn’t discreet enough for someone like him to follow me. But the thing is, I was twelve and that happened a week after my father died so I have an excuse.

“That is an asset,” Haymitch pointed out. “But if you’re thinking about killing tributes, don’t. Just focus on surviving the Games, because if you kill someone, that makes you a target. This also applies to you, Jones.”

“Right,” I commented.

After that incident, I finally got used to the atmosphere of subtle sarcasm and, at the same time, learned more things about the games. To add on to that, Elias and I learned a little bit about each other. Elias would write short stories and novels during his free time when he isn’t helping his parents while I am that person who adores the outdoors.

It was also ironic that we both share the same favorite color, violet. To say the truth, I was going to say blue but after one look at his eyes, I changed my mind.

“And what would you do as soon as the countdown ends?” I asked.

“If I’m lucky enough, I’d get a backpack first, otherwise, I’ll just run. Weapons aren’t such a big deal for me yet there is a chance that I’ll be able to get it later on. If I’m in danger, again, I’ll run,” he replied.

“Same here.”


	3. Chapter 3

In no time, we reached our destination. This is the first time I’ve ever been to the capitol, but it could possibly be my last, considering the fact that I’m trying to survive against 23 other tributes. If I had said this out loud, everyone will shoot down those words. Do they really believe in me that much?

Compared to how rural District 12 is, the Capitol is the total definition of glamorous and over-the-top. As soon as we arrived at the train station, I saw many people wearing wigs, heavy makeup, anything that’ll make anyone, even the least observant people, notice them.

“This is different,” Elias commented, in which I also agreed to that statement with a nod.

When we got off the train, we were both escorted to one building while Effie and Haymitch walked another way.

“Where are we going?” I asked one of the escorts.

“You’re going to get a makeover!” she exclaimed in reply.

A makeover? What did I need one for–oh, it’s for the tribute parade.

So I just went with the flow. The first part of the makeover included a full-body wax, which I didn’t mind, yet I literally didn’t know that it meant some pain would be involved when the wax strips are removed. I was kind of annoyed, but at least it was over and done with within an hour and a half.

After the waxers left, another person came in. Even though his style was similar to the previous people who were in the room, the Capitol-style aura was more subtle.

“Hi Ryalle, I have heard a lot about you,” the person greeted.

“You have?” I questioned.

“Yes, but let me introduce myself first.” He then cleared his throat. “My name is Ventus, and I will be your personal stylist for the duration of your stay here in the Capitol, and before the Games.”

He told me about how he saw me being reaped for the Games. I recalled back to that day and I remembered telling myself that it’s the Tesserae’s fault, yet I didn’t show any signs of fear. Honestly, I felt like I was ready for the Games physically, even if my mind kept on refusing that fact.

“You have potential, you just have to believe in yourself,” he finished with that statement.

Yet I have problems believing in myself. Even Perry has to assure me that everything will be okay. But no matter what…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I remarked.

Ventus bowed slightly in acknowledgement. A few seconds of silence passed, and Ventus was the next person to speak. “Now, for your outfit. Not many stylists ever consider the personality of the individual when making the outfit. They only care about the reputation of the district. As for you, making an impression is my top priority, and Acacia, Elias’s stylist, is also briefing him on a similar discussion as well. I want for you to give off a mysterious aura; make people question what is special about you both. I’ll get your outfit now so give me a moment.”

* * *

My outfit is more of a sleeveless jumpsuit, all black, with the pants flaring out at the ends. It’s also a loose fit overall, better suited for casual occasions. Ventus also told me that he also inserted special effects to it so I just have to press the button that he provided with the outfit.

Elias’s outfit also consisted of a similar style. He had on a dark silver vest that looked like he had armor on, though it looked like Acacia subtly added the texture of coat onto it so it didn’t look too similar to what Two are wearing. He also wore plain black cargo pants and silver gauntlets as well. I don’t know if there were any other special effects added on to the outfit but I will have to see later.

“Everyone looks so glamorous, can our outfits compare to them?” I commented as I admired everyone’s costumes while I doubted ours at the same time.

Elias sighed. “You know, I just learned one more thing about you.”

“What?”   


He hummed. “You always seem to doubt yourself. I don’t know why, but you do.”

I shrugged. “I can’t help it.”

Elias pulled me by the arm and seconds later, I can feel his breath on my ear as he whispered. “When we are in the arena, I will go wherever you go. I hope this doesn’t put any type of pressure on you but I trust your choices.”

I wrapped my free hand around the bicep of the arm holding mine.

“Thank you for being there,” I said.

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “We’re staying together no matter what.”

Now that I think about it, Elias Jones is someone I can trust. I’m betting that if Perry was my partner, he’ll probably have his own agenda besides our own. Sure, Elias and I are close to becoming friends but I will literally go crazy if we ever start dating by the time we are in the arena but whatever.

“Tributes, mount your chariots.”

As soon as that announcement was made, we both headed for our chariot stationed at the back of all the others. I was about to get up on it myself but Elias, who apparently already mounted our chariot, held out a hand for me to take, to help me up.

“I just learned one more thing about you too,” I laughed as I took his hand and got up myself.

Elias raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“You are a shameless gentleman.”

We’re very sure that the nearby tributes are wondering what the hell are the coal miners talking about but in our point of view, we don’t care about what they think. We only care about what the two of us think. Haymitch and Effie sometimes care as well but for now, it’s just the two of us.

We’re ready to take on Panem. Not only that but also, the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not posting as much as I normally would *sweats* Since the COVID-19 pandemic began, it just threw a whack in my update schedule as well as school things. Anyway, now that I'm preparing for college, I can't promise that I'll update often still but I will definitely be continuing on the second round of edits that I have planned out for the rest of the chapter drafts soo... get excited!


	4. Chapter 4

We’re out in the open, in the eyes of Capitol citizens and cameras. Most of the tributes, from what I see, are just waving at them, trying to gain attention.

I honestly think they should do something other than just wave at people. They are probably going to get killed anyway. But just this thought burst a fuse, triggering me to press the button on my hand to activate the special effects that our stylists added to our outfits.

As soon as I did, black and white smoke poured out from our shoes. It wasn’t enough to cover us but enough to make an impression.

“Hey, want to make up some dance moves?” Elias asked.

I nodded, a small smirk forming on my face. “Okay.”

He probably meant to say either ‘hand movements’ or ‘make our hands dance’ because we did just that. Starting with one of our hands together with the other, we told a story of two strangers with minds that somehow think alike, coming together to compete for our lives. We are here to survive, to win. If we die, then let us be remembered as loyal members of a team, and the smoke helped to enhance the whole thing.

The crowd seemed to like what we are doing. I figured it’s because things other than waving at them are not common. It feels like they’re probably thinking: That pair of tributes from Twelve, you know from the 86th Hunger Games? They’re very positive and always looking forward to the next move.

No, Elias freaking Jones is the only positive tribute here. I’m just trying to pull everything together for him.

In the meantime though, I felt there was something that I could do, to show that we are strong and will never back down from a challenge. I nudged Elias’s hand, and in reply, he grasped it. Together, we raised them up in the air. The crowd gave a round of applause to us. I felt like we made an impression on them, that we are not throwaways.

“And we’ll write a new story together,” Elias remarked, somehow finishing my thoughts.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” I inquired, curious.

“I just do, even when I have only known you for a few hours,” he said, throwing a wink at me as he did.

“Fun.”

The chariots then gathered in front of the current President, whose name I don’t know. What I know is that President Snow died from choking on his own blood. I don’t know how that’s possible but that is what I heard.

We listened to his welcome address. The basic stuff, how we are all welcomed here to the 86th Hunger Games to honor the quelling of the uprising 86 years ago, and that motto, may the odds be ever in your favor.

Are they even in our favor? Probably not.

Once every chariot reached the other side of the road, Haymitch, Effie, and out stylists were waiting for us.

“Well done, the both of you looked great out there,” Haymitch said as he slowly clapped.

“Where did you learn those hand moves?” Effie asked curiously.

Elias and I looked at each other, trying to find an answer.

“Inside the train, I guess. We were interested in telling stories through movement,” I replied as best as I could. “And that was probably the best that we could come up with while on a moving vehicle.”

“They were interesting.”

I didn’t recognize that voice at all, even if the tone sounded pretty genuine. I looked around to see where that voice came from, because it definitely didn’t come from either one of us. Then, we all turned around to see another tribute standing right behind us.

The tribute was a male, who looked about to be two inches taller and a little bulkier, though slender, than Elias. I assumed that he was from District 1 because of the shiny suit he was wearing, which was a gold tuxedo with a navy blue bowtie. It may sound basic but don’t underestimate how rich Career Districts like One are.

“Who are you?” I asked the tribute suspiciously.

The tribute sighed and muttered something under his breath, which I didn’t catch. Then he began to introduce himself by saying, “My name is Cole Chambers, and as you all have already assumed, I am from District 1.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and apparently he looked back at me.

“I know none of you trust me at all, especially you sweetheart, but if you want, I can be your spy,” he continued.

The thing is, I feel slightly insulted at being called ‘sweetheart’ yet I had no idea why do I feel like I’m letting it go that easily. I don’t know if it’s because he might be trying to manipulate me or I’m surprised that he is not like any other stereotypical Career. If it’s the latter, how will his hometown perceive his character? He most likely volunteered to be here and if he didn’t, it was a miracle that he is here now. Usually, the Career Districts are intent on having their people volunteer for the Games, so they can bring glory to their district. But never mind that, I need to start figuring out what are his intentions here.

“Well, we need to think about it,” Elias sternly replied, fixing one of his gauntlets.

Cole didn’t look like he was fazed by him. I assume it’s because he was expecting that answer to come out of one of us. “That’s okay. Just find me if you ever change your mind.” Then, with those words, he walked away.

“I don’t know what he’s up to but keep a close eye on them,” Haymitch advised. “We’ll talk more once we get into the suite.”

And so we continued to walk inside the Tribute Center, meters away from where we were standing and took the elevator to the top floor, which is where we are placed, as each floor is designated for each district, One at the first floor, and Twelve at the top. It took about two or three minutes to get up there and when we did, we followed Effie and Haymitch to the door.

“Ready?” Effie asked us, in which Elias and I nodded, not knowing what to expect when it came to what the suite looked like overall.

So she opened the door and allowed the rest of us to enter first. As soon as I noticed the fancy décor, I knew I was in for a treat.

“The Capitol’s doing so much for us,” I commented.

“Actually, the Career Districts basically get the same treatment here like back in their hometowns,” Haymitch commented. “They’re generally spoiled brats.”

A few seconds after that conversation, I decided that it was time to explore the suite. All I can say about it is that everything here is expensive. If I or my mom wanted to buy furniture for our house now, we wouldn’t be able to afford them.

After exploring both the living room and the dining room, I walked into one of the bedrooms. I didn’t see Elias behind me so he must’ve gone into the other one.

Minimalistic is the word to describe the whole room. The queen-sized bed in the middle had sheets that were made of silk. Silk is expensive and District 8 produces them for the Capitol. It’s sad that they rarely get to keep what they make.

I also spotted a window-looking thing on one side of the room. The view was beautiful, but will it be the last time when I’ll be able to experience luxury like this? Probably.

Tomorrow will be the first day of training. I think Haymitch told me in the train that if I practice my knife-throwing skills, I’d pose as a threat to others, and to only show that to the Gamemakers.

I also need to gather allies as well. Again, Cole and Kiaya are possibilities but they can easily deceive us like what all the Careers do in general.

We’ll just see what happens.


	5. Chapter 5

The first day of training starts now.

There was one thing that I was thinking about from what Haymitch said, to specifically not practice with the knives right? Then that basically gave me a right to practice a new weapon.

“Ryalle.”

I looked towards Elias, who was walking beside me for a moment. “What?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said. “Be careful.”

Wait, how did he know that I was definitely deciding on teaching myself to wield another weapon? I’ll ask him tonight during our dinner if I don’t forget.

In the meantime, I resolved to find a melee weapon that I can probably wield. I spotted several shelves with different melee weapons so I perused through them. If I didn’t know how to throw knives, I would’ve settled for a dagger easily. I felt like I’m naturally agile so a sword or a spear wouldn’t be a good fit for me, and how do the good people even know how to throw spears? And then the machetes are basically giant knives so they wouldn’t do either.

“Whoa, how about this?”

I muttered to myself as I saw a weapon that looked like it had a steel shaft with a weighted head at the top, with four pieces of metal forming a cross. It looked very heavy to me but when I grabbed it, I was surprised that it was lighter than I expected. Even if it was still heavy, the weight is nothing that my arms can’t manage. I later found out that this thing is called a mace. If used properly, it can be very deadly to whoever the wielder inflicts damage to.

I like it.

I decided to test it out on one of the mini simulations. Once I have identified myself, I had to pick between five different levels: Easy, Medium, Hard, Extreme, or Against the Odds Extreme. I felt that the last level was very extra. I went with Medium first.

I didn’t want to put pressure on myself yet. If I went for Easy, that’ll be very stupid, self-explanatory. If I went for Hard and beyond, I’d be testing my limits with a weapon that I wasn’t proficient with yet, so I felt Medium was a better choice between all the levels.

I prepared myself for the simulation. I kept a strong grip on the mace because I knew I was also basically testing my arm strength.

Then the sim appeared. It had a sword so I have a disadvantage when it comes to agility, due to the weight in my hands, but I believe I can make up for it with brute force.

I was able to dodge each time the sim tried to slash me. Not wanting to waste any energy, I waited for an opening, so I can strike back. Strike too early and I’ll just tire myself out, and strike too late, I’ll get killed.

When I did find an opening, I took that chance. While the sim missed me by inches, I swung the mace to hit it at the lower part of its spine. As soon as I did, it disintegrated. For a moment, I was proud of myself yet surprised at the same time to learn the ways of a weapon like this so quickly.

“It needs some improvement,” I muttered under my breath.

“Agreed.”

I looked towards where the voice came from.

“Cole?” I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“We meet again Farashnid,” he smiled. “I have a few tips for you though. I use the mace sometimes, not as much as the spears but enough for me to pass down my experience. I assume you still don’t trust me right?”

I firmly shook my head.

“But will you trust my advice?”

I considered that question for a second. Literally, I don’t know why I started to talk to him in the first place, but maybe I can give him a chance, even if it’s probably the only one that he will get from me. I guess I made my decision.

“Alright,” I sighed. “Make sure those tips are useful.”

“No worries.”

The first thing he mentioned that I was looking like a natural even if I never used that thing before. He then went ahead to fix my grip.

“There is more than one way to grip a mace, in terms of hand positioning. Since you’re a lefty, I’ll try to mirror everything I say to suit your comfort. Left is always on top of right, if you want to swing it like a bat. The closer your hands are to the spikes, the more control you have. The farther they are, the more power you have. You can also grip it one-handed, in which you have more range but it will compromise your strength,” he explained.

“Interesting.”

“You also seem to have good agility, but you don’t want to compensate that with improper body position, especially when you’re not using it.”

So Cole went on to correct my body position. He was a hands-on teacher. If he was not really teaching, then he might be trying to flirt with me, yet I can tell that he was trying to help. Honestly, I don’t know what is with boys flirting with girls at all; I’m just here to keep myself alive, though I can acknowledge at least he’s trying to help.

I then did the simulation one more time while Cole watched on. That run was definitely better than my last one.

“Amazing,” he remarked. “I think there’s still room to improve. Other than that, you seem ready to move on to the next level, but I suggest refining your skills in this one as well.”

I nodded in affirmation.

“Okay, I better go before Two gets suspicious about where I went. See you.”

Then I watched him jog away. I then heard another set of footsteps and this time, they were familiar.

“Hi Elias,” I greeted as I grabbed a cup full of water to refresh myself.

He gave me a wave in greeting. “I guess I was wrong about earlier; you looked very proficient with that mace and Chambers even came over to give you legitimate tips. I’m really considering the possibility now.”

“True,” I said in affirmation.

Then he went to whisper in my ear again, like yesterday. What is with him and whispering at random moments?

“I know you’re not supposed to train with throwing knives at all but how about we spar each other using daggers?” he suggested.

“Why?” I questioned his thought process on this. I really honestly think he is better off by himself but he is looking for an ally in me, I think?

“I want to learn how to use one just in case I can’t get a sword,” he reasoned.

“Okay, but we’re going straight to the camouflaging area right after because that’s essential to survival,” I replied.”

“Deal.”

* * *

“And that’s how you grip a dagger, good job,” I complimented. “Don’t be tense though. Only apply enough pressure so that it doesn’t fall out of your hand, whatever you do.”

Elias nodded. “Got it.”

“Good. Another thing to know, daggers are best suited with a person of high agility since the weapon itself doesn’t provide a lot of range between you and your opponent,” I explained. “So, how do you fight someone with a spear for example?”

He cleared his throat. “Dodge each attempt that the wielder tries to get to me, while gradually trying to get closer to him or her.”

“Correct, and if you can, try to disarm your opponent as well,” I added. “Startle them, taunt them, throw them off balance, do whatever you can. Any other questions?”

“No.”

“Then I hope you’re ready,” I said as I put on the safety layers for both daggers, to make sure we actually don’t get hurt. “I’ll go easy on you.”

So we then each took our stance on the two-person course, which included varying levels of elevation ranging from little hills to flat plains on one elevated platform.

I paid attention to what Elias is doing. So far, he has only been watching what I was doing. I should’ve told him to make a battle plan while watching his opponent because this is what happens when you’re not prepared with a plan.

I stepped forward to feint a stab. As I expected, he thought I was going for it, and so as he proceeded to block it, I already tricked him.

“Damn, you are too good,” he commented.

I snapped my fingers in the air. “Focus!”

The next move was easy. We were on flat ground so I stealthily slid by him, grabbed his arm with all my strength, pulled him off-balance, and proceeded to stab him in the diaphragm, with the safety layer acting as a barrier between life and death.

“You need more practice,” I said. “Go practice some taekwondo in your free time.”

He groaned in response. I just can’t believe that I just showed off my District partner. If there was anybody watching, they’ll only think that I’m sneaky. They could try to be more clever than me by catching me off guard, but they can never figure out the fact that I am also deadly, and that secret is only between Elias and myself.


	6. Chapter 6

During the rest of the time, several tributes came with offerings to be our allies and protectors, but we had to say the same thing we told Cole.

“‘We’ll think about it’ is what we told them,” Elias commented. “Honestly, at least not killing us for the first few hours would be enough.”

“Besides, I’d rather make a truce between them. I don’t want to ally with too many people at once, not to mention that I personally don’t trust most of them,” I added.

At dinner back in our suite, that was the main subject.

“Nothing like this has happened before,” Effie said, slightly in shock. “It is very strange.”

“At least they just have a bunch of tame teenagers gunning after them and not animals trying to find prey from wherever they can get them,” Haymitch remarked, unsurprised.

We just sat there listening to them talk. I agree with Haymitch with this year’s tributes not trying too hard to win. They’re sort of trying to survive but they really are trying to gain our attention and take them under our wing in order to achieve victory. When I mean ‘our attention’, it actually means mine and mine alone.

“Having all these people turning their attention to us makes us more of a threat to District Two. The worst-case scenario would ve everyone, including us, getting killed by them just because they are our followers. Maybe they would leave Cole and Kiaya alive because of their joint status as Careers but they will kill them off soon enough,” I explained the predicament at hand.

“Honestly, Ryalle,” Haymitch began. “Having them two is a huge benefit for you. Not just their Career status but are also good fighters. If you choose to depend on them in exchange for having your lives protected, they will either be true to their word or use their promise against you. You choose.”

“I’d keep an eye on them if I were you. You can never expect anything to come from a mystery like them,” Effie added.

I curtly responded to their concerns. “We will speak to them tomorrow.”

* * *

On the second day of training, the first thing we did was to get Cole and Kiaya’s attention. Luckily, the two of them are just chatting in the firemaking station. I could tell by their distinct blonde hair that it was them.

“Is this a good talking place?” I whispered upon arriving to their spot.

“Yeah,” Cole nodded. “Carla and Alex aren’t coming until after lunch so you two are good.”

I nodded. After I dragged Elias here, the four of us scooted to the back of the station, so we can remain hidden from the others.

“We came over to you both now to say yes to our partnership,” Elias began. “But on a few conditions.”

I then picked up from where he left off. “First, be honest with us. We’ll get to know more about each other and what Two is planning. If you lie, then we’ll stop telling you what we both have in mind and possibly kill you both before you are able to run back to them, assuming that they are your backups. Secondly, keep open communication with us and each other; we need to know what everyone’s agendas are.”

“We have a pretty good insight on what people are possibly thinking so if you are keeping something from us, I suggest you blurt it out,” Elias continued.

“Got it,” the two blondes nodded in response.

“Third, if you get any sponsor gifts, you have to show whatever you got for the whole party,” he began. “I know, in my point of view, side agendas tend to be created with new factors but it’s so we know what each of us have.”

Kiaya spoke up, “I know what you mean there.”

“Lastly, don’t kill each other until it’s only us left,” I said in a stern tone. “You can still kill anyone else that you’d like to kill but be careful about it.”

“Why?” Cole questioned.

I let out a sigh. “Just… plan the kills carefully.”

The two of them didn’t question us any further.

“Any questions you may have, feel free to ask before the Games start,” I stated. “We’ll see you both around.”

Then we walked over to the station across from us to continue our training.

* * *

We were at the camouflage station for a while, and there, I found out that Elias is artistically gifted. Not only he is able to match the texture of various elements like the ground and the tree trunks but he is able to do so in as less time as possible. He also seems to know which natural ingredient to use to even make the pattern blend in with the environment.

“It would take me forever to even paint any part of me like a rock,” I commented, showing off my half-finished masterpiece on my arm.

“It’s okay,” Elias assured me. “As long as you’re able to climb, that’ll be enough.”

“True.”

“And just in case, I also tried to match the pattern of snow,” he added, showing off his hand covered in white with some soil-looking details that basically matched the usual snow-covered ground completely. “You can’t expect what this year’s arena will look like until we get our outfits.”

I decided to try to paint some snow on myself as well. While I did, I observed what was happening around us. Cole and Kiaya are still hanging out at the firemaking station, talking and casually making fire. Then I saw a pair of tributes sparring some simulations with axes. Everyone’s working hard as usual.

Carla and Alex are nowhere to be seen, which was expected since Cole mentioned that they aren’t coming until after lunch.

“We should continue working on what we need to improve and refining what we are personally good at,” I blurted out.

“Alright then.”


	7. Chapter 7

We have half of the tributes on our side, or at least to our intuition. We expected the other tributes to work alone, so we are glad that this is not an attempt to overwhelm us by our growing popularity, not to mention that each of them are good at something, whether it’d be a particular weapon or just weapon handling, finding edible food, climbing, or anything in general. The bad part is the bloodbath.

At the start of the Games comes the bloodbath, taking place at no other than the Cornucopia. We told them to get what they can get and run while Cole, Kiaya, Elias, and I cover them. Since Cole and Kiaya are technically Careers and should aid Carla and Alex, they have to be convincing in this plot, especially when the cannons mark deaths. They are going to act like they’re killing them slowly, then leave them and get Carla and Alex out of our sight while Elias and I try to salvage resources.

There is a chance that it may not work, especially with many tributes trying not to kill each other besides the Careers, who are basically there to kill. We were afraid that those tributes will die while attempting to gun for Two.

“Don’t worry, they’re extremely smart so they can formulate a plan to survive on the fly,” Elias assured. “Also, remember the thing about agility?”

I gave him a nod. “The two of us can personally go in and out. If we get our weapons of choice, we’ll stash them quickly and run. If I get a mace at all, which won’t be likely unless I play this safe, hopefully that thing comes with some storage system.”

“Agreed. But when I saw you carry it for the first time, it looked like you were going to die,” he pointed out.

“You seem to be judging me and my potential right now, but that’s okay. Think of it as an end-loaded club. Most of the weight is at the barrel so it may seem a little unbalanced at first,” I explained. “But when used correctly, it will be easily a lethal weapon to have.”

Another thing. If Two miraculously gets killed on the first or second day, or whenever in general, they can relax and go on their agendas. They don’t have to be stuck with us, but I feel like they’re not intending on killing us until the end.

My train of thought then paused for a couple of seconds. I whispered to my most trustworthy ally: “Speak of the devil.”

Elias instantly locked his eyes on the entrance. Clearly, Carla and Alex looked like they were ready to work, as they should be. Before we walked away to do our own thing, I nudged him.

“We should scout for what weapons they normally use. Rumors say that they are evidently show-offs,” I suggested.

Receiving a nod from him, we walked back to the blessedly empty and vacant camouflage station and used that as our viewpoint in order to watch our opponents work. It looks like they’re proficient with daggers and spears.

“Incredible accuracy and agility, not to mention power as well,” Elias commented. “They are definitely dangerous so we’re up for a challenge for our lives.”

What he’s saying is true. They have been formally training and perfecting their craft so of course, they’ll be good, but personally, I have been trained ever since my father introduced the knives to me and I improved through sheer will, even after he died. I could’ve dropped the hobby as soon as he did, but I did not. First, it was for me to honor his willfulness to not give in to the Capitol’s oppression. And second, it was for me to have a valuable skill if I ever take part in the Games.

On the contrary, Elias never held anything deadly in his life. He is trying to learn as much as he can for these next few weeks. I believe in both of us now. If I can’t believe in myself, then it is  _ us _ .

And before long, it was Evaluation Day.

Technically, it is to rate the skills everyone has gained, but tributes use them to narrow down threats, which is most likely what Two is going to make of me if I get a very high score. But honestly, after the relentless training I have undertaken, I feel like I’m ready to go. I just have to count on my knife-throwing skills, which I have only been practicing once or twice while there weren’t too many people in the Training Center.

“Kiaya Star, please report to the Training Center for private evaluations.”

With a wink to her district partner and to both District Two tributes, she walked past the door and into the room. I honestly still can’t believe she and Cole are going to aid us behind the scenes, behind Carla’s and Alex’s backs. I wonder how they are going to do this.

“The wait is going to be a while,” Elias commented, and I agreed to the statement with a hum.

Since we are from District Twelve, we go last in basically everything. We watched as each tribute was called up and left the room one by one until we were the only ones left.

“Ryalle Farashnid, please report to the Training Center for private evaluations.”

As I stood up, Elias stood up as well and proceeded to give me a hug and a couple of pats on the back. I was surprised by the action and I couldn’t help but hug him back.

“Concentrate on right now. Don’t think about the consequences,” Elias muttered out. “Deep breaths. You can do it.”

“I can do this,” I repeated his words.

He let out a smile in delight. “That’s the spirit. Now go make an impression.”

I squeezed his shoulder before breaking the hug and walking inside the Training Center.

I was thinking about what I should do here overnight, but it was only now that I had an idea: handling of multiple weapons. This is my sole thought as I presented myself to the Gamemakers.

“Hello Ryalle,” the Head Gamemaker greeted. “You have ten minutes to do your chosen skill. You may start now.”

As soon as he was done talking, I jogged over to the weapons rack, grabbed a vest with knives of different styles and lengths, a sheathed dagger, and a mace with a shoulder strap, which I apparently was surprised about. I quickly geared myself up and once I was ready, I went inside the simulator placed in the middle of the room.

There were only two modes this time: Extreme and that crazy mode name that I don’t remember.

I selected the latter.

In preparation, I unsheathed one of the knives from the vest and kept a lookout. Then I heard footsteps, slow and steady ones that are possibly sneaking up a kill from me. I knew they were behind me so I estimated the distance between the sim person and I and as soon as I looked back, I hurled the knife. It landed right in the throat.

It is a victory for me to land that one, but I’m not done yet.

More sims appeared. I threw a knife after knife and when they got too close for my taste, I then unsheathed the dagger and tested my agility against them.

These sims are very agile, at least for this difficulty. On the rest of the days leading up to now, I climbed up the levels, making sure that I am at my best. That is where I need to be in order to win against Carla and Alex, and possibly Cole and Kiaya if they decide to backstab us at the last minute.

The dagger proved useful until I saw some sims gathering power for an attack. I used this time to put my dagger back and unstrap the mace. The sims approached, and when they were close enough, I swung my mace as hard as I possibly could, focusing on the contact that ended taking both of them out at one sweep.

Bad idea to stay close while being hit by a mace.

The thought itself gave me a chuckle. Fighting all these sims was taxing but a piece of cake at the same time. I felt like I knew what I was doing and at this point, I’m getting used to it.

My time was almost done. As I strapped the mace back on myself, the last sim appeared, I swiftly took out another knife and threw it. I held my stance as it disintegrated.

“Thank you Ryalle. You may leave.”

I curtseyed in reply before I walked out.


	8. Chapter 8

“Let us tell you what we thought of both your evaluations,” Effie began. “You did very well, especially you Ryalle.”

I pointed to myself in confirmation.

“Yes you, Miss Farashnid,” Ventus confirmed. “Wielding multiple weapons in combat is a rare talent. Usually, tributes choose only one or two weapons but you used three. You didn’t really need the dagger but I can understand why you used it.”

“The end was curved, like a sickle,” I responded. “I could have done anything else, but that was the boldest thing I could think of.”

“I’m glad you did,” Haymitch said in praise. “Now, even if you have a huge number of allies, don’t trust every one of them. Your main goal is still to survive so remember that.” He then turned to Elias as we walked towards the living room. “Elias, why did you choose to use camouflage against the simulations?”

He let out a nervous chuckle. “I had a dagger by my side so in case one of them saw me, I’m ready to attack, but none were able to spot me within the first seven minutes, maybe because I was well hidden in the Center with that camouflage I made quickly. Eventually, I had to come out and battle them because I know that I cannot hide forever.”

“Tell me, your camouflage was out of pure natural substances?” Haymitch questioned, in which Elias replied with a nod. “Geez.”

“Everyone, the scores are about to be posted!” Effie said, motioning for us to gather around the television.

I plopped down near the end of the couch with Elias following suit right beside me, probably because of habits from the past couple of days.

None other than Caesar Flickerman appeared on the television.

“The scores will range from one to twelve, twelve being the highest. Here are everyone’s scores.”

As usual, it’ll take at least 5 minutes for him to get to ours. In the meantime, Cole’s portrait appeared first on the screen, with the number nine right beside it, and Kiaya had the same score. Carla received a ten while Alex received an eight. Throughout the time, most of the scores were average, ranging from fives to eights. There were a couple of lower scores but they were not too much of a concern at the moment.

What I was worried about was our scores, mine most of all. Did I make an impression, a big one, on them? Or was I too reckless?”

“The score for Elias Jones of District Twelve… ten.”

Elias let out a demure smile, receiving pats on the back from the stylists and our group of mentors.

“The score for Ryalle Farashnid of District Twelve…”

I covered my mouth out of nervousness.

“Eleven.”

I let out a gasp. An eleven? That is such an amazing score and well, it seems like I did make an impression on the Gamemakers.

“Amazing Ryalle!”   
  
“Congratulations!”

I received hugs from everyone in the room and I also congratulated Elias on his score.

“Ryalle, you were the real achiever here. You should embrace all these greetings while you still can,” he remarked.

“You deserve some achievement too,” I retorted with a laugh.

We closed the current conversation with several fist bumps.

“The last step before the Games are the interviews, so I expect the best from you both, especially when you could be high on everyone’s kill list,” Effie said, prompting a nod from Elias and I. “Good, now get some rest.”

Then everyone left, leaving Elias and I standing alone in the room. The quiet atmosphere between us wasn’t at all awkward, rather it was one that we mutually appreciate.

“What does... the quiet make you think of?” He asked on a whim.

I thought about the question for a bit. Depending on how I feel, the quiet has many meanings for me, making it hard to find one distinct meaning among them. However, I knew what I was going to say.

“Content. Elated,” I replied. “It somehow makes me feel like although nothing has been accomplished yet, I’m still happy about it.”

“I’d say the same.”

So we left it at that until we turned in for the night.

* * *

Soon enough, it was time to get ready for the interviews. The two of us, along with our stylists Ventus and Acacia, arrived while Kiaya was being interviewed. I paid attention to the television for a but while Ventus was explaining his ideas for tonight.

“Elias, you’re just going to wear a black tuxedo, with a few neutral accents that will bring out your eyes,” Acacia said.

The man in question raised an eyebrow at her words. “Why do people care about my eyes again?”

“Capitol citizens are curious about what your actual eye color is. Some see it as violet, like you pointed out, but others either see them as blue, green, grey, or even hazel,” she explained. “Caesar may ask you that same question so be prepared.”

“And as for you,” Ventus pointed at me. “You’re going to wear something black to match. It’s going to be in a form of a high-low style of gown, with the back going beyond your feet, giving it a slight train behind you. In contrast, the front will go up to your knees. The bodice will have a pattern of Swarovski crystals on the bodies as well as a few on the skirt. Then simple silver stud earrings will complete the look. Oh, and you’ll be wearing dark makeup once again.”

I gave him a nod, my mind barely absorbing anything that he said, knowing that I never heard of a ‘high-low’ gown or ‘Swarovski crystals’ ever in my life. Most of the words said are just foreign jargon to me.

The next several minutes leading up to our interviews were spent by us getting ready. The gown Ventus designed for me was incredible, but it’s also a little heavy for some reason.

“Why does this feel heavy?” I asked aloud.

“Special effects, another tribute to Cinna,” Ventus replied with a wink. “You’re almost done. I just have to clip on this headpiece.”

Once he did, he motioned for me to look at the mirror. The girl I’m looking at looked different from the one who didn’t know if she was sure of herself. I transformed from that girl.

“Beautiful,” he commented.

Haymitch and Effie apparently chose this time to check on me. When they did, they had similar reactions.

“Oh my gosh! Ryalle, you’re simply gorgeous,” Effie commented, and I gave her a “thank you” in reply.

I looked at the mirror again. I was glad that the girl looking back at me appeared different. She looked more confident in herself, with a crew backing her up. It is only a matter of time when she breaks. But for now, she will shine.


End file.
